


fight through the dark (find the spark)

by Kybee1497



Category: Julie and The Phantoms (TV)
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Angst, Bobby | Trevor Wilson Defense Squad, Depression, Gen, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I am tired, Other, get the boy therapy and a hug stat, hurt kind of comfort???, idk it hurt me to write but it has a kind of positive ending, look my boy Bobby loves his boys with everything he is, ngl this was not the direction I was expecting it to take but here we are, no Bobby slander in this house, no beta we die like the himbos, oof, rose is doing the lords work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-12
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-16 17:00:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28710099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kybee1497/pseuds/Kybee1497
Summary: “August in LA was a whole different kind of hell.”Bobby knew a lot about hell.
Relationships: Bobby | Trevor Wilson & Alex Mercer & Luke Patterson & Reggie Peters, Bobby | Trevor Wilson & Rose, Bobby | Trevor Wilson/Alex Mercer/Luke Patterson/Reggie Peters
Comments: 17
Kudos: 43





	fight through the dark (find the spark)

**Author's Note:**

> Second fic here we go. This originally started as Bobby telling the boys about the songs and it kind of evolved from there into an accidental song fic for bright. I had an epiphany about the last line when I was almost done and went to check lyrics to make sure it was right and was like oh shit, this is a song fic. I wrote a song fic without realizing it. 
> 
> So here’s Bright (feat. Bobby who’s really going through it rn)

Dry grass crunched beneath him as he settled. Laying on his back on the cracking, unyielding ground, Bobby tucked an arm under his head, looking up at the dark sky. It was a warm night and the skies were clear. Distant pinpricks of light shining down at him from an inky black field miles above. The air was still, clogged with an almost oppressive heat. The kind that holds every living thing in its grasp. Like flies caught in the sticky yellow paper, unable to free themselves and slowly wasting away. August in LA was a whole different kind of hell. 

He knew a lot about hell. Bobby mused hazily, his thoughts coming slowly, drifting up from the back of his mind, like they always seemed to do these days. Stumbling his way through the last six months, drifting in and out. When he was out, life was good, as good as it could be when he’s lonelier than he can ever remember being. When despite that aching, never ending loneliness, he can’t quite seem to feel anything at all. When he’s in though, the crushing pain is almost crippling. Reaching up and ensnaring him in its shadowed fingers and threatening to drag him down, down, down. He almost prefers to be out, at least the empty, aching feeling where his heart used to beat in his chest is easier to deal with than the constant sharp stabs of guilt-grief-pain that never quite went away when he was in. 

Where was he going with this? Right, He knew a lot about hell. Hell was losing his best friends on what should have been the best night of his life. Of choosing flirting with the pretty girl with the sweet smile over a last meal with his boys. What was supposed to be the last meal before their lives changed forever. Well in a way he guessed that ended up being true. Their lives were over and his would never be the same. 

Hell was the image of flashing lights bouncing off the wet pavement and the shrill whine of sirens echoing in the narrow alleyway. Those images that never quite left his mind. Like the cute girl’s eyes when she appeared in front of his crouched form. Hunched in on himself, falling to pieces in an alley on a cold February night. The stench of vomit that must have come from him, wafting past his nose. His fingernails digging into his palms where he had his fists balled in his lap. The pretty girl, Rose, taking his hands into her smaller ones. Guiding his fists open, encouraging his fingers to unfurl. Rose sitting with him, on the wet, frankly disgusting concrete, as he sobbed for longer than he knew. Rose helping him up, guiding him onto shaky legs and out of the alleyway where his dreams died just like his fr-, where his world had completely shattered. 

Hell was opening his eyes every morning to see the painted mountains gracing the cream walls of Rose’s apartment. He’d all but moved in, in the past months. Unable and unwilling to return to the empty garage that used to be his refuge, that used to hold his fr-, his home. Opening his eyes every morning and realizing that it wasn’t all some horrible dream. When he turned to share an exasperated look with Alex, over Reggie’s endless optimism and boundless energy. When he went to throw and arm around Luke, to lean into his side, only to stumble. No warm body there to catch him, nothing but air and an aching hole in his chest growing bigger every day. There was nothing there. No Reggie bounding into the room, smile on his face bright enough to chase away any shadow. No Luke, bouncing around the space, sparkle in his eyes as he went on about the power of music and the way it brought people together. No Alex, grounding presence keeping them all together even when his own thoughts threatend to run away with him. 

The drum beat in his chest, the bass line vibrating through his feet and the guitar echoing up his fingertips, were forever silenced. Cold, dormant, empty. Just like his fr- his heart was, just like he was in all ways except for physical. 

He turned his head, neck cracking in protest as he slowly shifted his gaze to the smooth stone next to him. He flinched as the simple words “Reginald Peters” came into view. Two little words, all that were left to mark the final resting place of his whole world. How could two little words be all that there were to describe Reggie. Reggie with the smile that could make even the worst days shine. Reggie with the never ending faith in humanity and the joys of the world. Reggie with the parents who couldn’t even stop fighting long enough to bury their only son with peace and love, to leave him with a headstone that honored him in all the ways he deserved. Reggie who was gone. 

From his spot in the grass he could just barely see the speckled stone of the “Luke Patterson, Beloved Son and Friend” catching the light of the moon. The stone fit him in its own way, Luke reflected the lights in any room he was in. A supernova shining just a bit brighter than anyone around him. Energy and music practically spilling off of him in waves. He wasn’t afraid to take, knew how to get them where they belonged. And he loved with his whole being. Luke was the heart. Beating strong enough to carry them all through. Good days and bad. 

And up on the hill he could see the white stone of the “Alexander Mercer, Son, Brother and Child of God” twinkling. The light of the moon brings out the subtle rainbow of colors in the stone normally hidden in the light of day. When Alex’s parents had asked for help with the arrangements, he hadn’t been able to do much. Hadn’t been able to keep the pressures and rigid expectations Alex so hated in life from continuing in his death. But he could select the stone. While the words may have been carved into the surface. The stone itself was still strong, still standing. Beautiful in its coldness on the surface but sparkling with a thousand tiny rainbows in the strong light of the moon. The stone, like Alex, refused to bend. Refused to change itself, stood strong and steady and sparkled with all of the colors when given the right light, and the chance to shine. It stood tall, shining and pointing the way home. 

Bobby turned his head back towards the sky, looking at the stars and the cluster of three off in the corner of his vision. Twinkling at him from their place in a row, part of a larger constellation. Orion the Hunter, his brain filled in. Huh. Part of something, something great just like Luke had always said they would be.

Looking up at the trio of stars high above him, Bobby felt himself start to wake up again. To come alive. He could feel his heart beat in his chest and the fog that had been keeping his thoughts heavy cleared. For the first time since it all happened, he felt himself start to cry. Silent tears at first before big, body shaking sobs started up. And with each exhale he felt the shame and the pain, slowly, slowly starting to unwind their grip on his chest. His lungs expanded fully, the air burning but for once the pain made him feel alive. Throwing his head back he laughed for the first time in months. And above him the trio of stars shone bright, bright forever.


End file.
